Never Tear Us Apart
by Nixi Who
Summary: Modern day AU. Janice/Melina. Janice Quatlane has a lot of problems, but she never imagined she'd find someone who understood her biggest problem, until she met Melina Whistler. But Melina has another, bigger problem... It's a good thing that something's are worth getting your heart broken for.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello! I've written several one-shots and drabbles about my favourite pairing Jelina (JaniceXMelina) but this shall be my first proper story about them. It's a modern day AU and one of the reasons I've written this story is actually part rant. I'd like to get across how hard it can sometimes be to be gay and the prejudice some people, including myself, can have to deal with in today's society. **

**Anyhow, I hope you enjoy. **

**I should also note, I do not own Professor Layton and this is merely a piece of fan work.**

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Never Tear Us Apart

Chapter One

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As soon as Janice Quatlane arrived in the school-house home from her day of lessons, she sprinted up the stairs and into her bedroom, which she had always been very thankful that she didn't share with any of the other students who were unfortunate enough not to have a family to go home to, like many of the other students who attended Ambrosia Secondary, did. Slamming the door behind her, the teenager yanked her red and blue tie off with one pull and threw it towards her bed as she dropped her bag beside the dresser, the fake leather ruck sac landing with a thud and then stopped. Frozen; staring at her reflection in the mirror that hung above the cheap (like any of the school house kids owned _nice _things), wooden dresser.

Janice Quatlane had never particularly thought of herself as pretty or attractive, but currently, she was disgusted with herself and her own appearance. Her red hair that had been in a neat pony tail that morning was now beginning to fall apart, strands of the ginger wisps sticking out around her face like a messy mane. From her tears, her eyes and the surrounding skin was red and swollen, a deep contrast by her unhealthily pale skin. It was a curse of red hair, as her Grandmother had always said before she died; a beautiful (however it was of no such thing to Janice) hair colour, yet skin as white as snow. In addition, as if the sixteen year old didn't look bad enough already, her cheeks were stained with black mascara that had crumbled down her face, when the tears had fallen.

Looking at herself through the mirror, Janice couldn't help but think what life would be like if she had no problems. Sadly, there were a lot of them- and even worse, not one of them could be helped by a good cry, a visit to the school's pastoral office, or apologising to someone. In fact, Janice had nothing to be sorry for, and she knew that. Yet, she still felt infernally guilty. After all, if she wasn't _this _way, over fifty percent of her problems would never have even been there in the first place. If there was a way to change this, which Janice knew by now, there wasn't, Janice would. Maybe if she could at least turn back time... That way, she could stop herself from ever being so stupid and trusting someone who she thought was her friend, who then found the situation so hilariously unbelievable and went and told _everyone, _then she wouldn't be in this mess. The truth was, Janice had no one to apologise to, but that was only because all the blame was on her. She had no one to apologise to, but herself. It was just an unfortunate case, because for this, she could never learn to forgive herself. Ever.

All Janice Quatlane could do, was sit on her bed with her face burrowed in the linen pillow and cry. It didn't make any difference. It didn't change anything. It didn't make anything better. But at the end of it all, it was the only thing she felt that she could do.

The redhead wasn't sure how long the tears had been falling for, when there was a knock on the door. Looking up, Janice rubbed her eyes with her scrunched up fists, even though she didn't particularly care if anyone saw her crying. Everyone knew it was an act Janice did daily, whether it was alone, in the middle of class, or at lunchtimes in a toilet cubicle.

"Yeah...?" Janice called through the door, her voice coming out quieter than she meant.

"Can I come in, Janice?"

It was the voice of one of the school-house's carers. Three members of the staff at Ambrosia Secondary lived and worked in the home that had been set up especially to take in students at the school, who had unfortunate backgrounds and weren't able to live with family members. The school worked directly with the social services, meaning that if the case ever rose, a student could be fostered- or even in some cases adopted. The voice of the woman who spoke through the door, Janice recognised as the teaching assistant, Miss Sharkey. Janice didn't tell the teaching assistant everything, however, if she was going to tell anyone what was bothering her, it was Sharkey.

"Yeah, sure..." Janice's voice trailed off, as she sat up and around, crossing her legs on the mattress of the bed.

The door creaked- it was an old house- open and Sharkey, a woman in her mid-twenties with shoulder length brown hair and a rather petite figure walked through into the bedroom, which was exactly identical to the nine other bedrooms in the building. Fifteen students lived in the school house, Janice was lucky not to share a room.

Sharkey gave the teenager a small smile as she spotted her tear-stained face and sat at the end of the bed.

"Bad day?" the brunette said in a rhetorical manner, she knew far too well that it had been a long time since Janice had had a good day, and nodded to show it.

Janice gave her the smallest of smiles in return, also nodding, her eyes flickering up, before turning to gaze upon the plain bed sheets.

"Wanna' talk about it?" Sharkey offered, a kind expression on her face.

"No thanks," Janice replied in a hushed voice.

"Are you sure? Talking about things always makes them better..."

Janice inwardly frowned. That wasn't true. Talking about things always seemed to bring forgotten things back up onto the surface and dig into open wounds, that were beginning to heal.

"No, honestly," the redhead's voice grew to a neutral volume, hoping to show the teaching assistant that she was really fine. "I'm okay."

Sharkey's brow furrowed; she knew exactly that the sixteen year old _wasn't _okay. She was far from it and both knew it. However, Sharkey also knew that nothing could be done. If Janice didn't want to talk about it, then nothing anyone could say, could make her talk. It made sense to Sharkey, for Janice not wanting to share her problems and inner most faults, after what had happened before with Amelia at school...

"Well..." Sharkey sighed and stood up, "Maybe write your problems down in a list? That way, maybe you can find a way to think about them more clearly if they're written down?"

Janice pursed her lips in thought, looking up as the teaching assistant walked towards the door.

"You don't have to show it to anyone, you know," Sharkey went on, "Just keep it to yourself. Maybe rip it up afterwards?"

Janice gave a small nod. "Right, I'll do that..." Janice gave the teaching assistant another faint smile, grateful for the fact that she at least _seemed _to care (it was her job to listen to students' problems). After all, maybe it couldn't do any harm to try...?

"Good," Sharkey gave a small smile, before leaving the room, just after giving her a reminder of, "Dinner in forty minutes!"

Once the door was closed, Janice quickly hurried over to the desk where she always sat to do her school work and rummaged through the selections of exercise books with her notes from her lessons in. Pulling out a plain double page from the middle of her science exercise book and taking out a black birow from her pencil-case, Janice returned to her bed and pulled the lid of the pen with her teeth and lay across the bed on her front, the paper in front of her.

Within seconds, she began scrawling across the paper.

_I'm failing maths_

_My mum doesn't want to know me_

_Boys are revolting_

_Girls are stunning_

**-X-X-X-**

Melina Whistler pranced through the doorways of her new home, humming a self-composed tune as she did so, carrying a box which had "Kitchen stuff" scribbled across every side the brown box had on display. As she entered the kitchen, she placed it down on the counter and then made her way back to the living room to retrieve another box and do the same.

It was only four o'clock, but the teenager was awfully tired. It had been a long day, starting at five thirty that morning, when the moving truck had arrived and with the help of two men, Melina and her father had placed all of the previously packed boxes into the back of the moving van, and had then set off on their journey from London, all the way to the South coast of England, in the countryside.

Unlike most other sixteen year olds, Melina hadn't been at all reluctant to move. In fact, Melina was more than happy to move away, and not just because it was for her own well-being and health. As soon as her Father's car had driven past the sight of the beach, Melina had been thrilled to be this close to the sea. It was like being on holiday, but _living _there. The small, two bedroom house that her Father had rented was, although incredibly close to the sea (in fact, she could see it from her bedroom window!), but the village centre was only a few minutes walk away. She felt like she was in the centre of everything- much better than London. Although London was the capital, Melina had found it too busy and cramped, not to mention the impacts it had on her deteriorating health. Besides, it wasn't like there was anything in London that Melina would miss. She'd never really had any _proper _friends at school. She didn't want to risk making friends and then something going wrong with her health, as she knew it would one day. But now they were in Ambrosia, maybe that would all change?

Just as Melina put the second box in the kitchen, her father came down the stairs and entered the kitchen.

"Well, your bed's set up, dear," he said, putting his hands in his pockets and seemingly exhausted, "I'll sort out your wardrobe this weekend. For now everything's in boxes..."

Melina gave him a bright smile in thanks. Also unlike many girls her age, Melina and her Father had always been very close. Since her Mother had died, technically before she was even born, the two had really all the other had ever had.

"Thank you!" Melina beamed as she ran past him and up the stairs to her new bedroom.

"Hey, careful!" the middle-aged man called after her, peeking his head around the door and watching her jog up the carpeted stairs.

Melina rolled her eyes, her back turned to him. He was always like that.

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**AN: Right, I've been writing this and I've actually had to edit my plan for this fic, since I've had so many ideas whilst writing it! XD **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Reviews make my day. :)**

**Nixi~**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Back, sorry. Revision calls and I'm currently writing like 6 stories. This one's my favourite though, but sssssh, don't tell.**

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Never Tear Us Apart

Chapter Two

"Dyke!"

Janice ducked to avoid a scrunched up piece of paper as she carried on down the school corridors on the way to her first lesson of the day; English. She said nothing in response to the insults yelled at her and carried on down the hall. After all, what was the point in confronting them? She had no comebacks, they, in a majority of opinion's, had no faults that would hit home. Neither was there a way to get them to stop the painful ridicule; asking politely would only get herself mocked and laughed at and violence was both something that Janice didn't condone and didn't have the strength for anyway. The best she could do was walk on by. The posters dotted around the school advertised that ignoring bullying would go away, and although Janice thought that was just to stop people responding in a violent way, and that ignoring it made no difference, it was the best she could do. Besides, maybe acting like it didn't matter and just carrying on as if she hadn't heard a thing limit the loud, public bullying. She could already feel the eyes on her after the paper ball had been thrown her way- and she didn't like it.

Hurrying on into the classroom, Janice quickly sat herself down at her seat and put her books onto her desk, keeping her head down so as not to make eye contact with anyone. She kept her eyes glued to the book and carried on reading, right up until the teacher announced for everyone to put their reading books away so the lesson could commence.

There was a knock at the door as Janice slipped her book into her bag and without meaning to, Janice looked over at the class door. About to jerk her head back away, her eyes caught sight of a girl her age, who she hadn't seen before. She was dressed in the school's uniform so Janice assumed it was a new girl. She was slightly shorter than most girls their age, but only by an inch or so. Her frame was rather skinny and the bulky school blazer hung around her frame awkwardly, but Janice could see that without the jacket she'd look a lot more comfortable. Her skin was pale but in this cold town, whose wasn't? Besides, it was a _nice _pale, a clean pale, which was surrounded by a bob of hazel, shoulder length wisps. Her big eyes stared nervously into the classroom as every other pair of eyes turned to stare at the new girl, and she flickered a shy smile towards them all, which Janice found strangely confident.

"Ah, yes, Melina Whistler, the new girl, right?" Mr Triton nodded, glancing towards the girl, Melina, before around the class, searching for a spare seat. "Could you sit next to Janice, please?" He pointed to the spare seat (which of course would be spare, no one wanted to go near her) adjacent to Janice's, which Melina then went over to and sat down on. "Janice can fill you on in the class and such."

Melina turned to the redheaded girl ,a friendly smile on her face. Something that Janice wasn't used to. Janice became so caught up and distracted in the smile that she almost forgot what she was supposed to be doing.

"Oh, yes!" Janice shook her head, attempting to cover her blush with her hands. "We're reading Of Mice and Men. Analysing Crooks."

"Thanks," Melina replied in a soft, subtle voice and nodded, turning to her copy of the book and skimming the pages that had been noted on the board.

"Do you need any help...?" Janice nervously asked, not wanting to offend the girl who had somewhat managed to make her feel appreciated (which was something no one had accomplished in _weeks). _She wanted to carry on talking to this new girl, despite the fact that she knew the second they were to get out of class and into the corridors, she'd hear the words directed at the redhead and find out the truth, and never smile at her again. "I-I mean, I was only asking incase you didn't do this at your school..."

"No, it's fine. And thank you for the offer, but I've already studied the book." Melina giggled slightly and shook her head, the smile still on her face.

"Oh," Janice nodded and both the girls turned to their own books, although Janice's mind played on Melina's smile.

"Okay, can anybody tell me what they think of the character Crooks?" Mr Triton asked, signalling for everyone to close the books.

Not one hand rose. The class was completely silent and it was fair to say that a majority of the class wasn't listening. The teacher looked around the class, tapping his foot. For a young teacher, he certainly would have suited a 1950s classroom better.

Melina turned to Janice. "Are all classes like this?" She whispered. Janice merely nodded in response, knowing not to speak when the class was silent, and Janice, as her mind was of course still on Melina, began to wonder if perhaps she'd been to a private school before... She'd already studied the book that Ambrosia Secondary was barely half way through and she seemed relatively surprised when no one cared to answer the teacher's question, when nobody ever did. Of course, her upbringing didn't matter but it made her wonder... Were people kinder if they'd gone to a private

school?

"Melina, you seem to have something you'd like to share," Mr Triton announced, spotting Melina whisper to Janice. "Perhaps you'd like to share your analysis of Crooks?"

The whole class turned as Melina swallowed, suddenly seeming rather anxious. Every class would always prey on the humiliation of other students.

"Well, I-" Melina cleared her throat, "I think Steinbeck uses Crooks to show the inequality in the era through the prejudice of racism. Crooks is made to feel that he is different and he himself feels that he is different because of the neglect. He's grown to feel that he isn't like others. I think that because of this, Crooks tries to protect himself from others to avoid anymore discrimination. He tries to carry some pride by keeping himself locked away from the others."

There was a long, quiet pause in the classroom and Melina's pale cheeks grew pink with embarrassment and the silence was soon filled with the click of Mr Triton's tongue and the sniggers of some of the students. Mr Triton nodded in approval and quickly moved on, not saying anything to acknowledge Melina's analysis. Janice, on the other hand, could not help but continue to wonder more, and more, and more.

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**AN: Thank you to the lovely reviews for the previous chapter. Keep them coming. :)**

**Nixi~**


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